Red Hot Obsessions (194 page)

One guy with his back to the spank-a-rama twisted his seat.

The growing, internal blaze slicked up my forehead, crawled down my neck, tore into my chest cavity and singed my lungs. I closed my eyes and forced a deep breath.

A light draft swept up my arms from his change in position and the chair let out a creak as he sat.

I was still shaking, but a new shiver rolled up my body too. My tummy roiled and my heart fell into a frenzy. I was terrified and horrified and also … deeply, utterly aroused. I took in a full inhale through my nose and exhaled through a quivering pout.

“Let’s go. You know why this needs to happen.”

I knew he was not talking about the spanking directly. He meant the whole event, me and him going over this unthinkable and delectable threshold together, exposing a part of ourselves, right now, in front of a freaking audience.

I let out the whiney mew of a four-year-old and cringed as I stepped toward him. He clasped the tops of my fingers and dragged my arm down at his side to bend me over him. I’d planned on sexily gliding my feet back to get into position, but in my 3-inchers, my feet slid back before my hands even reached the floor, and I crashed down onto his lap. He chortled. With one palm, I stuffed my face-plant into the 18", fudge ripple tiles and pushed myself back up so my hips were over his right thigh. I joined my hands together on the marble and dug my toes in, legs extended. I still felt like I was going to fall over his knees and onto the floor.

“Ask. Beg me for it.”

Uh, good god. My eyelids fluttered madly and my core squeezed at an emptiness that instantly became jam-packed with savage lust. “Mmm … uh...” I paused and closed my eyes. Three, then four heavy breaths rushed out of me, and my body took on a new tremble. “Ah, uh, spank me, please,” scuttled out like barbed wire, but I almost capped it off with, “
Sir
.” Shit! I quickly morphed the hiss into a cough.

“As you wish.” His fluttering fingers tickled my legs as he raked the babydoll up my thighs. My body was awakened, so hyper-alert to his slightest touch. “Thank you for not making me wait, but that will not earn you any mercy from me. You’ve committed many offenses this evening that you must punished for. We will be finished when, and only when, I feel you’ve paid your due.” When the hem reached the edges of my red lace panties, his other hand gathered the babydoll up slowly inch by inch over my butt and red bra strap. He then smoothed it out over my shoulders with the softest stroke. His floating caress twirled down my back and bottom and legs like a dozen butterflies.

He tucked his left arm firmly around my torso, and that, combined with the fine sculpture of his thighs, brought me some stability. I no longer felt like I was going to fall off his lap, but I was still hurtling down a fast track into an abyss of perversion.

As if he could still read my mind, he untied my angel wings and spun them to the floor. It felt so symbolic, especially that
he
did it, him clipping my wings and tossing away my innocence like that. No one could see with me facing the opposite way, but I kissed the air, kissed that unspanked, ungroped, virgin girl goodbye. In the next few seconds, I’d be able to check the first one off my to-do list, and after this, I knew I’d be hungry to chase the rest. He also stripped off my halo, the devil tail tied around my waist and my horned headband, along with the bobby pins in my hair that he was now gliding his fingers through. They clustered together on the floor. Now, I was no longer any kind of angel or devil.

Just Addison.

Sick, naughty Addison.

On his lap in surrender.

Waiting to be spanked.

Because I so richly deserved it.

Hot Logan began kneading my bottom and thighs with a mix of hard and soft grabs, and he roamed his swirling caress around. He tossed in some pinches too. He was purposely building my anticipation and nervousness, making me wait for the best and worst part.

I trembled on his leg altar but tensed up, dreading yet craving contact with his firm hand, that first chastising slap, promising more and more and more, with no way out.

I was so glad he was wearing jeans instead of lighter pants. Hopefully, he was unaware of the sticky dew dribbling out of me.

A smack finally landed on both cheeks. It fell in between gentle and firm, as if he wasn’t quite sure how hard to hit. I was kind of disappointed, actually. This was my first spanking ever, and I mean
ever
, so I really wanted that first smack to drop my jaw and make me yelp. What the hell! He kept up with that same kind of half-assed spank, over and over, planting it on individual cheeks, sometimes both, in between kneading massages and caresses, but he wasn’t really putting any muscle into it. Was he just jerking me around, afraid to strike? Hit me, damn it! What happened to his promise of a red ass? Maybe he was not the force to be reckoned with I assumed he was. He did it again and again, all around. He was very thorough, I gotta give him that, covering every inch of my rear end and even working his way down the tops of my thighs.

My breaths were building, and it was not my imagination I’m sure, that the sudden seizure of my lungs directly coincided with an increase in his intensity, rhythm and strength. Spank, spank, spank now held a cadence that bested seconds and I was winded and shivering. God this was amazing.

“You have behaved...like a rotten...spoiled...mindless child...So it’s only fitting...you be punished like one.”

His words were beautiful. I wanted him to speak to me, chastise me so much more. That heightened the pleasure of this spanking tenfold. I knew I shouldn’t be enjoying a punishment this much, but I couldn’t help it. I loved everything about it, especially with the addition of his sexy voice telling me how bad I was and how much I deserved this. He was relentless, with no pauses at all in his delivery of yummy, wonderful smacks. The sound of hit after hit, of flesh meeting flesh, and him raining down on me, making me all rosy and warm, filled a room that was otherwise eerily silent except for the crackling fire. I was in heaven.

“This will not...end...until you have learned...a very…harsh...lesson.”

Don’t wake me if I’m dreaming.
I couldn’t believe this was happening. I got an ex-boyfriend to plant a couple slaps on my butt, which took two hours of acting like a brat, but they were so limp-handed and playful, I wanted to grab his shirt and shake him. No, this,
this
was the way to be spanked.

Though it was bad and crazy, I kind of wished he would spank me every day, or at least, once a week. How on earth could I ever go back to the pale, sting-free hell I’d been in, now that I’ve tasted the peppery pleasure of a spanking done right?
I can’t live without this. I can’t.

I knew this would happen. Knew it. This Logan dude was trashing me, branding himself in my mind, totally ruining me forever.

“I will not let up...until kisses...and even the softest touches”—three spanks came in quick succession—“burn you like flames.”

Kisses?!
What?
Was he going to be kissing my ass? I moaned at the thought. Uh, I sure hoped so … and felt wonderfully slutty for hoping so.

CHAPTER 2

I loved being across Logan Thorndike’s lap. I loved the feel of his hands on me, and the slaps, again and again, on the surface of my cheeks. I loved being punished for my naughtiness, in this way, especially by him. I bet it will be even better when he bares my bottom. Will he yank or
slide
my panties off? Or will he make me stand and ask me to pull them down, right in front of these pervy poker players? Any of those scenarios made me burn hot.

As he kept going and going, stings sprouted everywhere and lingered, and they still bit when he returned to meet them again. The sore spots and a lovely, blossoming heat merged into a web of extreme sensitivity across my whole backside. I grinned, picturing the blushing hue he was creating.

“Addison...You’ve been so bad today...and I’m not really sure...how long this butt bashing will last...or how much I will deliver...but I expect…a lot...so it is very...important...for you to get...this warm-up...Do you understand?”

Warm-up? What the...
It was actually starting to hurt now, to get really uncomfortable. I was squirming and wincing, now tensing up for the blows. This was a warm-up? He stopped spanking me and was back to the massages and soft tickles. They still felt good. For now, even with the stings, any touch on my butt felt spectacular.

I gasped when he slid fingers under the lacy edge of my panties. He stopped right at the top of my crack. He was going to touch me!
Fuck yes! Do it.
Maybe he was waiting for some objection from me since this wasn’t part of our deal, but hell, no, I’m not stopping him. I was done with being an angel stuck at second due to wimpification rather than shyness or some standard of morality urging me to be good. I knew I was bad, and I was always terrified to discover exactly how bad. But the ravenous hunger Logan was stirring up devoured every morsel of my anxiety, and my suppressed slut was tumbling out, all free and colorful and filthy. Astonishingly, I didn’t hate her one bit.

Touch me, touch me.
I aaahhhed and shivered as he slowly swiped between my cheeks.
Yes, yes.
He followed the line down and pressed the pad of his index finger against my anus.
Mmm.
He waited again. Silence from me. His middle and ring fingers circled around the entrance of my dripping sex, gathering my juice, especially when he went further than that and slid them in.
Mmm, fuck.
I trapped a moan behind my lips, but it still sounded like I’d just eaten the most scrumptious cookie in the world.
Ohmygod, wow.
Ah, spanked, now, groped? One thing left. I should not be craving that, not with a stranger, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t. He was very, um, skillful. I’d think any naughty girl like me would be yearning for the same thing. Could those men hear the sloshing I heard when he started sliding in and out? Though I’d wanted his fingers to be doing everything they were doing, I was still embarrassed at being caught so wet and also frustrated because he wasn’t shoving those magical massagers in as deeply as they could go. I wanted to buck up into his hand and swallow his fingers whole. I wanted the impaling to be so much faster, so that his pinky knuckle was punching me hard.

He tsked at me. “Shameful. I expected as much. Someone here is much naughtier than I thought. You’re getting turned on by this, Addison? At getting spanked like a school girl in front of a handful of witnesses? Do you like everyone knowing and seeing what a bad girl you are?”

“No.”

“No? What do you think, men?” He pulled his hand out, showing off the evidence of my blatant lie. Damn.

“She shouldn’t be getting turned on,” one said. “You’re not being harsh enough. Quit with the warm fuzzies and boy scout slaps. I’m tempted to do it myself. You should be whaling on her.”

Idiot.
I looked back over my shoulder at them, seething all hot-faced, what did they know, and spotted the gorilla butler in the doorway.
Wonderful.
He was probably stiff too.

“Yeah, spank her ass good,” Gappy said.

“This should not be a pleasurable experience for you, my dear,” his father said. “Get on with the real punishment, Logan.”

I couldn’t believe they were objecting to any of this.

“I know how to discipline a bad girl,” Logan roared. “
This
bad girl. I know what she needs. Back the hell off!”

What? I beamed at his words. Not even the richest chocolate in the world could compare to those treats he’d just given me.
He knows what I need. This
stranger
knows what I need. Exactly! I knew it.

He grabbed a fistful of my hair, jerked my head up to the side and held his sticky fingers, drenched with the evidence of my arousal, out to me. “Suck it off, you filthy brat.”

Uh, ohmygod, my vaginal walls throbbed to be nailed and used and unwound with an earth-shattering orgasm. Once I licked him clean, as sexily as possible, he released my hair and let me fall back into position. With them urging him on, I should’ve been expecting it, but I went back to fondling ‘
THIS
bad girl’ in my mind,
that’s ME!!!
—so his first, proper spank fell so hard on my sweet spot, it stunned me and snatched my breath. I let out a shrill sob, followed by an, “Ow, fuck!”

“Watch your mouth.”

I braced myself and tensed when the next two came on each sit spot.

He ordered me to relax.

I did manage to sink back onto his legs with a lengthy exhale, but I kept my eyes shut tight.

And then, more spanks, forceful and fast, came crashing into my ass, again and again and again. Okay, I was no longer loving this as much. Each pop on my skin rocked me forward, nearly hurtling me off his lap. “Ow, ow.” I squirmed against him and reached my hand back to rub out the dreadful sting, and he clutched my flighty grabber and pinned it to my back. The feeling of instability returned to me, with only one arm free to brace myself against the floor.

“No, no … Wrong move. You know you need to learn this lesson and suffer sufficient pain and embarrassment to let go and feel free and absolved.”

Yes, I do! How’d you know that?

“Brace yourself, little devil. We’re kicking this up several notches. This needs to hurt so badly, it cuts into your soul.” He stopped and yanked my panties up into my crack, creating a thong, exposing more of my butt flesh to the peepers. He tugged up several times, pulling the lace wonderfully along all my wet hills and valleys.
Mmm.

Then he was back at it, slap ... slap ... slap, and the spanking continued, with no end in sight. His hand must be killing him by now. He went on and on for about ten minutes, stopping only four times to massage me for a bit. How much longer could he keep it up? I was crying so hard and biting my lip.

“One more minute, and I’ll let you rest up, and we’ll move onto the next phase.”

Minute? Phase? There were phases to this? I’m sure my ass was good and candy apple red already. This was hurting like hell. I blubbered when I realized I had at least, at
least,
60 spanks to go, but I stopped with a gasp when I felt his rigid cock poking into my hip. I was so tempted to grind into it but expected that would only lengthen this punishment. He certainly didn’t have me here, butt-over-head, to play or get nasty. But, I clearly wasn’t the only bad one here, the only one in heat. Knowing that brought me back into a state of pleasure, made me focus on the task at hand. I felt like I’d had all I could take, but I wanted a little bit more. I wanted him to stretch me, push me past what I thought I could possibly stand. I’m not sure what awaited me there, on the other side, but I longed for him to drag me there by my hair. This last minute was no picnic. Kicking it up indeed! He spanked me more forcefully than previously, in fact.

I was spent. Falling even more lax against his legs, I sniveled and lazily kicked to try and expel some of the burn. I said, “Fuck,” once and shouted out horrific wails on each of his last five spanks, the hardest ones in the swarm. I tensed up, waiting and waiting for another.

“What did I say about watching your mouth?” He planted the hardest smack of all and I jolted. “We are finished with this.”

Thank god. Uh, thank god.

Overcome with a lovely soaking of release, I kept crying. Mmm. I felt cleansed and
un
-bad. I did it. I broke through. And I was thrilled-to-the-bone, believing that I pleased him. But at the same time, I felt sad because who knew when I might receive such a beautiful gift again. I was furious at my fleeting sense of gratefulness that this was over. Now, I wanted the pain back. I wanted the stings and the heat and an unending stream of slaps.
Hit me, hit me, please don’t stop.
Logan gently stroked and rubbed my back, sore bottom and thighs and let me lament on his lap for several minutes. I was mostly crying because I missed him already. Tomorrow promised a hellish separation from his strong hands and muscular hold.

When I calmed, he stood me up, and, noticing the obvious weakness in my legs and dizziness from the blood rushing from my head, he wrapped his arm around my back to steady me. His fingertips brushed up and down along my side. I rested my cheek against his collar bone. He reached up with his other hand and wiped my tears. “You’re doing great. We’re almost done. Now, stand up on the couch and bend over the back.”

I stepped back. “Logan,” I whined in protest.

“You will do it.”

Of course I
will
. Something had to better than nothing, even if it was extreme and promised the use of an implement. I sniffed my runny nose and nodded. I pulled the straps down on my red heels and kicked each one off, then climbed up on the couch and did as he requested.

He knelt behind me again and flipped up the skirt of my babydoll. He hooked his fingertips on the strings of my panties and gingerly, slowly peeled them over my butt and down my thighs, leaving them to rest at the edges of my white socks that stopped just above the knee.

A slow, sexy peel, aaahhh, lovely, Logan. My top pick for a strip.

But I groaned as the sick feeling of abashment rushed into my stomach and head.

Logan ran his soft hands up my thighs, took my cheeks in both hands and rubbed and squeezed. I cried out at the pleasure-pain. “Mmm. Reddened flesh. Such a pretty color on you. Legs apart. I want you to keep your wet, lacy panties right where I left them.”

Knees wobbling against the cushions, I spread open for him. Since I was being punished, I did not expect the slow lick he passed over my hot, puffy petals, and I gasped loudly and bolted upright.

He smacked my thigh and barked, “Uh uh, back down.”

When I did as he commanded, he scaled my body and leaned over the couch with me. His weight rested on top of me and the rough texture of his jeans cut into my sore bottom. I was so aware of his hidden package, rock hard and pressing into the divide between my cheeks. He ground into me, making sure I felt it. Yeah, I felt it indeed.

He grabbed my face, turned my head and whispered in my ear. “You are so naughty, Addison, loving far too much of this. Do you know, with you bent over like this, smashed up against the couch to push more of it back, that your bad girl pussy is exposed? And as soon as I move to get an implement, every one of these rich dudes will see it … your glistening, wet, swollen, pink pussy. I am so turned on, so fucking hard. You feel that? I’m hard, knowing how embarrassed and hot that’ll make you.”

Aaaahhh, ohmygod.
He ignited an inferno inside that I didn’t even know was attainable.

“Get on with it, Logan,” his father said. “Stop playing around.”

I was placid putty in his hands and he knew it. I loved that he gave me a little private speech, a delectable, yet sadly true message, just between us. It did the opposite of what he might have intended and chased every speck of my shame away. I was hotter than ever and dripping like a leaky faucet.

He left a tugging bite on my earlobe, pulled up and away from me and stepped off the couch. His shoes clacked toward the back of the room. I was afraid to look up. The men muttered quietly among themselves at the view. I had no clue what he was doing or what this next “phase” entailed.

My legs shook from a turn-on like I’d never experienced, because of how he spoke to me and what he said, because of how hard he was at my dirty mind, because of this embarrassing exposure he knew I’d love. I never thought I’d enjoy such a thing. If I think about the present company, especially Geoffrey, it makes me a little sick actually. I’m not really an exhibitionist, or I didn’t think so, but this flashing predicament with Logan at the helm and them watching it unfold twanged me like a twisted, guilty pleasure. My labia was swollen and soaked because of Logan’s handiwork, and delight fondled my insides at getting to show off the results.
I’m so bad.
Could they see the tears of joy slipping down?

At his absence, a chill floated over me like a bed sheet. I liked the feel of his body on me, the weight, all his hard places pushing against my cushy ones. I swooned and moaned quietly at the thought of being under him someday, hell, right now. Me. Taking all his furious, forceful thrusts. I wanted him so bad, I didn’t even care if these dudes witnessed the ceremonial cherry popping. I wanted, no, I
craved
for him to be my first lay. This guy. Who knew me so entirely with one look. I reminded myself he was a stranger, that sexing him up him should be the last thing on my mind, but in that first eye-to-eye, we exchanged so many secrets, so much of our souls. It made me want to bare it all, to give in to him and have him know every inch of my body just as well. I did not know how that was possible, how I could feel like I’d known him forever, how I could feel such deep affection and burning lust for him. I adored him. There was no one in the world I felt more connected to, and that made me cry, because it was just so pitiful and pathetic. I didn’t even know this guy at all. And here I was thinking about fucking him and praying he’d just hold me forever.

He could have a girlfriend.

Or worse ... a
sub
.

Logan was back behind me on the couch. Something roundish and wooden tapped me three times, then crashed into my ass. I screeched.